The Mill River Redemption (3 page)
Read The Mill River Redemption Online
Authors: Darcie Chan
Josie glanced around. There was a disorganized desk against one wall. On the other side, a mismatched sofa and armchair faced an RCA television set. A miniature Christmas tree stood on an end table next to the sofa.
“I don’t really watch television,” Ivy said, “but the set works fine. You’re welcome to use it anytime.”
“Mommy,” Rose said, tugging at Josie’s hand. “Can we watch
Sesame Street
?”
“Sure,” Josie replied. “And Mister Rogers, too.”
After they had passed by the doors to Ivy’s bedroom and bathroom, Ivy unlocked a heavy door separating the sitting room from the rest of the house.
“This leads into the store. Go ahead in.”
Josie shepherded her girls through the door and gasped. The front room of the house was the largest, other than the attic, and every inch of space was occupied by books. Tall bookshelves lined the walls. There were stacks of books on the very tops of the shelves and in piles all over the floor.
She looked nervously at the books crammed into the shelves, thinking how so much paper in such a small place surely posed a fire hazard. She wondered if Ivy kept a fire extinguisher within easy reach.
The room smelled like warm paper and ink mixed with a faint aroma of breakfast that drifted in from Ivy’s kitchen. Interspersed
among the books were several small tables and squashy-looking chairs in various colors. A small writing desk and chair were shoved into one corner, and the center of the room was covered by a multicolored, well-worn throw rug that read
WELCOME TO THE BOOKSTOP
.
Ivy followed Josie’s gaze down to the rug. “I had that made special when I first opened this place,” she said, and then stooped down to speak to Rose and Emily. “Do you two like books? Look over there.” Ivy pointed to the far corner of the room demarcated by small, colorful beanbags, where a sign on the wall read
KIDS
’
CORNER
. “There’s a big stack of ’em just for you.”
Josie held her breath, fearing that perhaps the books would remind Rose of bedtime with Tony and upset her. Her eyes welled up as she remembered how Tony used to make a big deal out of bedtime with the girls, even on nights when he had to bring extra work home to finish after he tucked them in.
“Time to pick your books,” he used to say in a booming voice that sent Rose and Emily scurrying to their little bookshelf. He would settle himself on Rose’s bed, and after jostling for positions on his lap the girls would sit, transfixed, while he read.
For Rose in particular, those few minutes with her father were a highlight of her day. Josie had been amused and, at the same time, a little hurt when her older daughter told her one evening, “Hurry, Mommy, say good night and go downstairs so Daddy can read!” The playfully triumphant gleam in Tony’s eyes hadn’t helped.
After she and the girls had been released from the hospital, they had stayed in a hotel paid for by the Red Cross. Josie had tried to maintain some sense of normalcy by buying some new books and reading to the girls at bedtime, but she hadn’t made it past the first few pages before Rose dissolved into tears, asking for her father. Now, instead of reading, Josie crawled under the covers with Rose and cuddled with her until she fell asleep.
In the front room of The Bookstop, Josie was relieved when Rose squealed with delight and ran toward the children’s area. Emily toddled along after her.
Maybe being in Ivy’s little store will help them heal
, she thought, as the girls plopped down on the rug and began going through the colorful picture books that were piled there.
“There used to be another bedroom up front here,” Ivy said, “but I knocked out the wall to expand this room. It’s a little more cramped in here during the winter. When the weather’s nice, I move some of the books onto the porch.” Josie could see the front porch through the windows on either side of the front door. “People seem to like sitting out there and browsing through the new titles, especially in the summer.”
“It’s lovely,” Josie said, “all of this. Your home, the store. They’re very inviting and comfortable. I can see why people like to come here.”
“It’s not easy keeping the place going,” Ivy said. “Speaking of which, it’s almost opening time. Books aren’t the most profitable thing to sell, not by a long shot. And I can’t stock everything I’d like to, since I don’t have the budget or the space. But I try to cater to the folks who come here, and they come from all over—not just Mill River.”
“I expect people appreciate having a bookstore here,” Josie said as Ivy went to the writing desk and removed a calculator and a pad of receipts from the top drawer.
“They tell me that all the time,” Ivy replied. “I can order pretty much any title, if someone is willing to wait a few days for it, and I buy and sell used books, too. People can bring books they’ve already read, and if they’re in good shape, I’ll give them some credit for ’em. Whatever works, you know. That’s what I do. I’m not a fancy person, so I don’t need much. As long as I can pay my bills, I’m happy.”
Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of the porch door opening and closing, followed by a loud knocking. For a moment, Josie was overcome with fear that she and the girls had been followed from New York. She relaxed when Ivy peered out the window and smiled. Her aunt flipped a sign hanging in one of the windows so that
OPEN
faced out and answered the door. A man in a winter postal uniform and a fur hat stood in the doorway.
“Hey there, Larry,” she said. “Whatcha got for me today?”
“Looks like more inventory. You must be stocking up for last-minute shoppers.” The mailman picked up the first of several boxes stacked on a hand truck next to him.
“I suppose I am,” Ivy said. “Let’s set them over here. Maybe I’ll get them unpacked before people start showing up.”
“Sure thing,” Larry said. He hefted three large boxes into the front room of The Bookstop before picking up the last box, which was smaller and lighter than the others. “There might be some mistake with this one,” he said as he examined the shipping label. “It’s an Express Mail package with your address, but it’s …” His voice tapered off, and an odd expression came over his face. He cleared his throat. “It’s addressed to a Mrs. Josie DiSanti.”
“That’s me,” Josie said quietly.
“Oh, how rude of me,” Ivy said, looping her arm through Josie’s and pulling her forward. “Larry, this is Josie, my niece. Josie, meet Larry Endicott, the nicest mailman in Mill River.”
“The
only
mailman in Mill River, since the rest of ’em are ladies. The ones who cover the delivery routes, anyway.” Larry smiled at Josie. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.”
“Josie and her girls over there will be staying with me a while,” Ivy said. “So you might see some more things addressed to her.”
“Ah. Well, here you are, then,” Larry said, handing Josie the package. “I hope you like our little town. I’ve got to get going. The truck’s really loaded today. Holiday rush. See you Monday!”
“See ya, Larry,” Ivy said. “Keep warm!” She closed the door and turned to Josie. “That was weird, don’t you think? Sort of a hasty exit? He was acting so awkward there in the end, and—”
As she clutched the package she had been handed, Josie didn’t register her aunt’s voice stopping mid-sentence. She stood staring at the box in her white-knuckled hands.
“Josie, what is it?” Ivy asked. Her aunt walked over to her and squinted to read the package. “Oh,” was all she said.
“I can’t … can’t deal with this … not now. Not until after the girls are in bed,” Josie choked out. She glanced at Rose and Emily in the Kids’ Corner. They were blissfully unaware of her distress.
“Here,” Ivy said in a low voice, and she gently pried the box from Josie’s grasp. “I’ll put this away until later. It’s definitely not something the girls should see.”
W
HEN HE REACHED
J
OSIE
’
S OFFICE
, F
ATHER
O’B
RIEN SAW
that Rose and her family were already seated on the long sofa against the wall. Emily had backed herself into a corner of the room, and Ivy sat at Josie’s desk holding a folded piece of paper in her hands. Father O’Brien was surprised to see that Jim Gasaway, a local attorney and an old friend, was in the room as well.
“Jim, it’s good to see you,” he said. “You must’ve slipped past me earlier. I didn’t see you come in.”
“What in the hell is going on, Aunt Ivy?” Rose demanded. She glared at Ivy with her arms tightly crossed.
“Would you mind closing the door, Father?” Ivy asked. After he had done so, she straightened up in her chair and looked at Josie’s daughters. “I know neither of you wants to be here for any longer than is necessary, so I’ll get through this as quickly as I can.
“You both know that Mr. Gasaway is handling your mom’s affairs. That said, Josie left this letter with me to read to you girls in case anything happened to her. Jim has a notarized copy of it, so he knows the details.”
“She wrote the letter earlier this year,” Jim added quietly.
“Please, just read it,” Emily said in a small, tired voice.
Ivy unfolded the paper in her hands, cleared her throat, and began.
To my girls, Rose and Emily
,
If you are hearing these words, it is because I have passed on. I trust Mr. Gasaway and your aunt Ivy will handle my memorial service as I requested. Also, I hope that you are not burdened with grief at my passing. I’ll always be with you, and the only thing I’ve ever wanted for you both was happiness
.
In fact, your happiness, or lack of it, is my simple reason for writing this letter. You girls were my life. I worried about you and loved you from the time you were born. If your estrangement from each other was not the cause of my death, I daresay that it must have been at least a contributing factor. Now that I’m gone, you have no immediate family left but Aunt Ivy and each other
.
I know what happened was horribly painful for you both, but I also know that time can heal even the most serious grievances. For years, I asked you, begged you, to try talking, therapy, anything to repair your relationship, but you refused. So, I’m taking matters into my own hands, and from the grave, no less
.
From the time we moved to Mill River, we lived frugally. I worked as hard as I could to provide for you and save what little was left. Over time, those savings multiplied, and getting into the real estate business helped me learn how to invest and grow my money. You might not have known it until now, but each of you girls stands to inherit a substantial amount from my estate
.
There is a catch, however
.
You know that I own several rental properties. Two of them are across the street from my house and Ivy’s place. You’ll remember those houses, I’m sure. One was owned by the Johnson
family, and the other by the Weiders. You girls used to go over and play on their kids’ tire swing and trampoline. The houses are small and simple, but they’re clean, comfortable, and nicely furnished
.
Of course, I can’t predict when during the year you’ll be reading this letter, but I expect each of you to move into one of the houses no later than two months after you do. Mr. Gasaway can meet with you to choose a move-in date. You can work out between yourselves who gets which house, or Mr. Gasaway can flip a coin, if you can’t manage even that
.
Inside each house or on each property, I’ve left a clue for each of you to find. The clues are two different objects. One will reveal the location of the key to my safe-deposit box, and the other is something that will help you obtain it. You’ll have to cooperate to find the clues and use them to locate the key—which is, in fact, the key to my treasure, and to each of you sharing in it. (I admit that this plan sounds childish, but perhaps that’s appropriate, given that I am trying to remind you of the bond you once shared.)
I put in my safe-deposit box a copy of my last will and testament, which directs that my estate be divided equally between you. You will have two months to work together to find it. In short, you’ll be neighbors. You’ll also be partners in a sort of treasure hunt. It may not be pleasant or easy for you, but it is my great hope that you’ll uncover good memories to help take away the bad. Ideally, you’ll come out of this experience on speaking terms, and maybe even as real sisters again
.
If you both do not follow my instructions and present Mr. Gasaway with the key to my safe-deposit box by the two-month deadline, or if you both attempt to challenge my wishes in court, I have directed him to execute the second
version of my will, which distributes my estate in its entirety among a variety of worthy charities. If only one of you refuses to follow my instructions or attempts to challenge my wishes in court, Mr. Gasaway will execute the third version, which leaves my estate in its entirety to the other sister
.
I know what I’m asking of you. You will have to uproot yourselves and move back to Mill River, at least temporarily. I also know you should both be able to manage this. Rose, dear, you’ve told me many times that Sheldon’s income alleviates the need for you to work, so there should be no job preventing you from coming. And Emily, honey, you’ve always been self-employed, and you’re good at so many things. I know you’ll have no problem finding a temporary job somewhere nearby
.
When it comes down to it, girls, I can’t force you to do this. I also know that, even if you do as I ask, the end result might not be the reconciliation for which I fervently hope. But I pray that you two will spend some time together and see reason, or at least come to understand what I’m trying to do for you. You might think I was a foolish old woman, but know that there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you. I’ve loved you both so much from the moments you were born. Even now, with what I’ve arranged, I have only your best interests at heart
.
Your loving mother
,
Josephine Collard DiSanti
For a long moment, no one spoke.
